


Darker Even Than Winter

by signalbeam



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Bisexuality, Consensual Sex, Execution Kink, F/F, F/M, Inappropriate Use of Safe Rooms, Initiation, Kissing, M/M, Memento mori, Multi, Phone Sex, Polyamory, Spoilers, Team Bonding, sex comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signalbeam/pseuds/signalbeam
Summary: Akira finds out nearly everyone else on the team has had sex with their Persona except him. He’s not the weird one here. Right?





	Darker Even Than Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for pretty much right up until the end of the luxury ship dungeon/December 22 or so.

By December, Akira had gotten used to his driving duties down in Mementos. He didn’t mind it—there was something cool about getting behind the wheel, especially since he was too young to drive in the real world—but all those hours spinning around the subway tracks could get tiring, and sometimes he wished he could eat snacks in the back seat with the others. 

When Makoto joined the team, he asked whether she wanted to take the wheel down in Mementos every now and then. She had a license, after all. 

“We could trade off,” Akira said. “It’s pretty easy. Morgana does a lot of the work.” Sometimes. There had been a few trips where he wasn’t sure whether Morgana had fallen asleep or not. 

“You see, Johanna is a bike…” 

“They let you get bike licenses before cars?” 

“So you understand why I can’t do it,” Makoto said, nodding her head. Now she was avoiding his eyes. 

“No one’s going to pull you over in Mementos for driving with the wrong type of license,” he said, but she put a book in front of her face and ignored him until he changed the subject. And she had stuck to that line except one or two times around the Palaces, even all these months later. 

Today he had brought them down here to take care of a whole slew of Mishima’s requests and do some training before they went to get the last two letters of introduction from Shido’s palace. It was a long list. He hadn’t gone down there since Akechi had joined them in October—getting everything set up for the trap had taken longer than he expected, and now that he was hiding from Shido and his goons, it was harder to find times to sneak out—but Kawakami’s massages really worked, so he didn’t mind making the trips, and this was a good way to blow off some steam. 

The others never tired the same way as he did, but he had assumed the principal difference between them was that he had a cat and they did not. Today, as he drove them around looking for the next platform, he heard Makoto, Haru, and Ann talking about holding a study session later that night. 

“I have leftovers at home, but I could make something fresh for you all, too,” Makoto said. “I don’t anticipate going to sleep any time soon, either. And there are other things we could do if we get tired of studying.” 

“You don’t get tired after coming down here?” Akira said. 

From the way Makoto startled, it was clear she hadn’t thought he was listening in. “Not so much anymore,” she said. “But I’m sure that it’s different for you, since you have… So many—many…” 

“—other things to do!” Ann cut in and laughed her strange channeling-a-power-hungry-model-for-a-scene laugh. “So many other things to do. That aren’t pleasuring your Personas! I’m so sorry.”

“Ann!” Makoto said. 

“What?” Akira said, turning to look over his shoulder and almost running into a tombstone. Morgana yelped and jumped up and Akira had to yank the wheel hard to get them back on track. In the rear view mirror, he saw Yusuke and Haru knock heads. Now they were both apologizing to one another. Makoto had one hand over her eyes. Ann had her fingertips over her mouth, looking sheepish, while Ryuji shot looks between Ann, Futaba, and Akira. 

“You can always talk to me,” Ryuji said. “I got your back.” 

“Thanks,” Akira said. 

“Right,” Ann said. “Same! I’m sorry for blurting it out like that. We just weren’t sure whether…” 

And that look passed between everyone in the car except him again. He fiddled with the turn signals. Morgana clicked his tongue at different speeds before hissing, “Cut it out!” at him. “What’s got everyone so tongue tied?” Morgana said, his tail lashing out and bumping against the Mementos wall. Akira had to do some creative course correction. “Spit it out!”

“I told you guys he hadn’t,” Futaba said. “I would’ve picked up on it.” 

“—so you’ve been able to…” Haru said. “For all of us?” 

“Yup. I usually tune out pretty early.”

“Ohh,” Haru said. 

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Akira said. 

Ryuji put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. “So you didn’t have to get with any of them?” he said. 

“Get with what?” 

“Any of them! Your Personas.” 

“As in—as in, negotiating for one or…” 

“I… oh man. You know.” He made a hand gesture that Akira didn’t see, since his eyes were still on the road, but he knew it had to be lewd because Ann reached over and pinched Ryuji’s arm. “Ow!” 

“Use words, moron!” she said. 

“You’re one to talk! So, none of your Personas after you got them made you… you know.” Ryuji ran his hand through his hair. “Pull over, man.”

“I can still drive.”

“Just pull over for a sec!” Akira pulled over and put Morgana in park. Ryuji leaned in, close enough that Akira could feel the heat of his face through his mask, and said, his voice low, “So you haven’t had to have sex with any of your Personas?” 

“No,” Akira said. Even though they were whispering, Akira could sense everyone else in the van straining their ears to listen in. 

“Not even with that cool Persona you had at first, the one with the wings?” 

“With—with Arsene? No.” 

“Oh, good!” Haru said happily. “We were all worried.” 

“Especially whenever we reached a new Palace and encountered new Shadows,” Makoto said. 

“Yeah, some of those didn’t look human,” Futaba said. 

“I would have liked to have seen it, had it happened,” Yusuke said. “But now I see I will have to imagine it instead.”

“Whew!” Ann said. “Glad we cleared the air.” 

“Does that mean…” 

But everyone had already moved on, laughing and joking with one another. Beneath him, Morgana coughed a few times. Akira took Morgana out of park and started driving again. A look at himself in the side mirror showed his face a bright scarlet that refused to fade. 

 

*** 

 

He didn’t call Kawakami that night, and was not afraid to admit that it was because he was afraid of popping a boner. Instead he sat on his bed with Morgana and tried to make sense of everything the others had accidentally revealed to him. Which was to say, Persona sex. 

“Of course _I_ haven’t,” Morgana said. “I’d never. Zorro’s the symbol of my masculine pride.” 

“I just don’t know why…” He twirled his bangs between his fingers and nearly tied them into a knot. 

“I don’t know either. It’s bizarre,” Morgana said, and licked the inside of his hind leg. Then he started talking about how hard it was to make tools without any thumbs and Akira decided to go to bed. 

In the middle of the night, his phone buzzed. It was Alibaba. Futaba as Alibaba. He guessed she was too embarrassed to talk about this directly—even if they still were, technically, talking about this directly. 

_I haven’t done it with my Persona, either. And don’t ever want to! I didn’t even know it was a thing you could do until I started getting weird readings from Mementos and safe rooms._

_How long have you known about this?_ he typed back. 

_I see all! Also they schedule stuff over IM._

“Who’s messaging you this late?” Morgana said, and stretched his claws into Akira’s thigh. 

 

*** 

 

In his dreams, he saw Ryuji on a ship with his head stuck through the wheel and Captain Kidd fucking him from behind, raising his arm cannon in the air and firing it repeatedly. Ryuji’s face was red and sweat ran all over his body, down his back, down his arms, down his thighs, spread wide so Captain Kidd’s cock could split him open. Ryuji didn’t look bothered by it—if anything, he arched his back into Captain Kidd’s thrusts and he pushed back, swaying his ass—

His eyes shot open. His hand was down his pants, holding onto his dick through his underwear. It was as hard as anything, and… He glanced over at Morgana. Right in his usual spot, still asleep. He threw his legs over Morgana and hurried to the bathroom. He locked the door and sat on the edge of the bathtub and forced his sweatpants and underwear down and gripped his dick. 

Now his imagination was turning to Ann. Ann with her pigtails in Carmen’s hands as the Persona steered her into her mass of petticoats and dresses… while she was in her Panther suit, with those zippers and her breasts pushed by her arms, trapped by her side and tied up by her own whip… And now Queen had Johanna’s heavy tire against his thigh and Goeman had the tall rise of his sandal against his cock while Fox kneeled over Akira’s face, his suit zipped all the way down and the head of his cock red and swollen, and Queen said, coldly, “If you come, justice will run you down, I swear it—” 

“Fuck,” he mumbled. He had to get back on track to his usual fantasies, but his mind, traitorous, spawned a slew of others: Noir with her thighs clamped around one of Milady’s huge guns, Crow sneering down at him, forcing his dick down Akira’s throat while Robin Hood ground against Akira’s ass, not pushing in but threatening—he came, shutting his eyes and letting it roll over him. He stayed on the floor for a while to regain his strength. 

This wasn’t his usual set of fantasies. Usually he got off to women in white coats choking him out with chains while skulls frolicked in the background, or a man seating Akira in his lap while he pointed a gun at his back, stroking him off in a booth at the Shibuya diner with nothing but a cup of coffee cooling in front of them. He had even jerked off to Yoshida, kind of. More like giving head to a conga line of Diet councilmen and women in exchange for votes to pass a bill or something. But, he had to admit, those were distractions to keep him from thinking about the other Thieves. And he had been good at it, labeling them in his head as off-limits, happy that way, until they had said that they had all done it, each of them, with their Personas. And now he couldn’t stop thinking about them. 

He tried to imagine Succubus and Incubus on either end of him, then switched them out for Surt and Lami, Dakini and Kin-ki, Cerberus and Ame no Uzume—but it didn’t have the same effect as picturing Captain Kidd’s grinning face, or Milady forcing him to take her fan into his mouth, while Ryuji or Haru watched. 

“Are you constipated or something?” Morgana said from the other side of the door. “Eat your vegetables next time. Hurry up and answer your phone, it won’t stop buzzing.” 

He wiped off the floor and went back to bed. He checked his phone. It was Ryuji. 

_So you’re really not doing it with a bunch of Personas every time we go into a Palace?_

_Nope_ , Akira typed back. 

Ryuji was typing something. It went on for a while. 

_If you had to pick one of your Personas, which one???_

_I kind of like Okuninushi…_

_Which one’s that again???_

_Long hair, sword, armor. I think he’s historical._

_Idk who that is. Hey, no pressure, all right? It’s totally normal to not bang your Persona. It’s prolly more normal than banging it._

_I dunno._

_No, it’s definitely more normal than riding your P._

Akira hesitated before typing out his next response. _I feel left out._

_Aww man. Dude, that sucks. Do you want to talk about it? I dunno if it’s something I can talk about on text, though…_

_Can I call you?_ The second he sent it, his heart rate went up. He didn’t know what the response would be. He stayed still, holding his breath. 

_Ok._

Okay. 

He scooped Morgana from the bed. 

“Just hang on for a sec,” he mumbled, and locked Morgana in the bathroom before he could wake up all the way. He called Ryuji a second later. The air on the phone seemed to crackle with static. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“Uh, hello?” Ryuji said. 

“Hi,” Akira said. 

“Sorry if I sound weird. My Mom’s in the next room.”

“I understand.” 

“So, any questions you wanna ask me?” 

Akira’s lips were dry. He wet them with his tongue. He put his phone closer to his ear and rolled onto his side so his other ear was flat against the mattress to block out the sound of Morgana yelling at him from the bathroom. “Could you… tell me what it was like the first time?” 

“Like… what do you mean?” 

“Uh, the circumstances… when it happened, what it felt like.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” He could hear fabric rustling on Ryuji’s end—probably Ryuji adjusting himself against his pillow and bed. “Guess it was like… something building up inside me for a long time, y’know? Right after I woke Captain Kidd up. And one day I was feeling all antsy and you were busy doing that thing where you stare at a wall and I, uh…” 

“You were with Captain Kidd while I was in the Velvet Room?” 

“The what?” 

“It’s nothing. Keep talking.” He loosened the drawstrings of his sweatpants and pushed them down his hips. 

“Yeah, so I just went off to this corner and tried summoning Captain Kidd, just to, you know, buff him up or something. But I kept thinking about Ann and how hot she looks when she’s really getting into hitting something and it was like, Captain Kidd wanted to help me, and you didn’t look like you were coming back any time soon and I said yes and it was like there was this explosion in my head and I jizzed in my pants.” 

“This was the day you said your leg hurt and you had to go.” 

“Uh, yeah.”

“What did—what did it feel like, the first time?” 

“I dunno. Kinda like my dick was the center of the universe and it was blowing up like a black hole or something. It was so intense. I couldn’t even walk, I just went straight down.” 

“What about after that? Did Captain Kidd ever help you out in a more hands-on manner?” 

Ryuji coughed into the phone. “You sure you want to hear about this?” 

“I’m sure,” he said. His cock was getting hard. He took it in his hand. 

“What was that?” 

“I’m just—really excited,” he said. 

The pause on the phone was uncomfortable for just a moment. 

“Are you—are you touching yourself right now?” 

“No.”

“Because—you sound a little out of it, and—”

“Uh,” he said, letting go of his cock. 

“I’m not going to be mad if you are or anything, but I can’t make it sound sexy if my Mom’s right in the next room and Ann’s always mad if I try to talk to her—”

“You and Ann are together?”

“Kinda? Shit. I’ve said way too much. Hey, can we talk about this in person?”

“Okay,” Akira said. 

“Sorry I couldn’t get you off. I just can’t do it over the phone. Night.”

Akira jerked himself off one last time and almost went right back to sleep before remembering Morgana. 

“Stress breakdowns like these are exactly why you need a regular sleep schedule,” Morgana said, and slept on Akira’s chest for the rest of the night. 

 

*** 

 

Ryuji wasn’t the only one who stopped by the attic to talk. Ann, Makoto, Yusuke, and Haru stopped by, too. Makoto had a notebook full of preliminary research. Yusuke came with a sketchbook. Of course Yusuke had sketches. 

“Why did you bring that?!” Ann said when she saw the sketchbook. 

“Hmm? Naturally, because I thought they’d be illustrative—”

“I understand you must be surprised to see us all here,” Makoto said, speaking over Ann and Yusuke. “After Ryuji told us how you’ve felt left out, we thought it’d be best to extend you an invitation.” 

“An invitation?” Akira said. Ah, he realized. So that was why they were able to talk about fucking their Personas so cavalierly around each other: not only had they already discussed it among themselves, but they already had their own arrangement. It had aroused him last night, but having it actually be true put him off. It made him a little sad. 

“I’m sorry for never mentioning it to you before,” Haru said. 

“It’s not Haru’s fault,” Ann said. “We all decided to keep it a secret. We were all—kind of embarrassed? Not because we’re not attracted to you or anything. It’s more like…” 

“You rejected us all so spectacularly that it was hard to imagine any of us taking that risk again,” Yusuke said. “Especially for something so easily misunderstood.”

“I never rejected you.” 

“Yes, you did!” everyone snapped back at him. 

“I propositioned you at a bar,” Makoto said. 

“I told you the only place I felt free was by your side,” Ryuji said. 

“I asked you whether you thought another man thought we were in a relationship! That’s very indirect, when I think about it,” Haru said. 

“I took off my shirt,” Yusuke said. 

“What I’m getting from this is that none of us are very good at asking people out,” Ann said, putting her hand against her cheek and sighing. “I’m sorry. We left you out because we were serious cowards.” 

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s good that you all have each other. I don’t want to join in. I’m just curious how it works with your Personas. That’s all.”

“What’s wrong, Akira?” Yusuke said. “You’re normally so honest and forthright. Why are you hiding now?” 

“Yeah, we don’t believe you at all,” Ryuji said. 

Akira pushed his glasses up his nose. He tried to settle deeper into his seat, maybe provoke it into swallowing him up and vanishing. But everyone was looking at him and there was no escaping them. 

“It’s just like you to clam up whenever you get nervous,” Ann said. 

“Is that a yes, then?” Makoto said. “Would you like to come in our… I mean, enter our…” She cleared her throat. “You’d like to join us?” 

He nodded. 

“Since it’ll be your first time, what would you like to do?” Haru said. 

He looked down and said, “I want you to show me how you do it with your Personas. I want them involved.” 

“That can be arranged,” Makoto said. “We’ll use one of the safe rooms in Shido’s Palace. Those rooms should be plenty. Let’s do it right after we secure the infiltration route. Everyone agreed?” 

Everyone around him nodded. Why, he wondered, did it feel so organized? He rolled his hoodie’s sleeves further up his forearms. He was excited, even as the sting of his friends’ secrecy still smarted. They wanted this, too. They wanted him, too. 

“I must take my leave,” Yusuke said. “My school’s exams are earlier than yours, and recent events have kept me from getting my usual study time in. May I kiss you, Akira?” 

“Go ahead,” Akira said, uncrossing his legs and tilting his head up. He wanted to be nonchalant, but he didn’t expect the blunt, warm force of Yusuke’s kiss, or the way Yusuke admonished him, right afterwards, for keeping his eyes open. 

“You must surrender to the moment!” he said.

“Don’t listen to him,” Ann said, picking up her bag, too. “I got a shoot for tomorrow. I need to hit the gym. Ryuji, you’re coming with, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji said. They both stepped up to Akira, Ryuji going first, his face screwed up as he straightened his posture and smacked a kiss on Akira’s lips, Ann going next, kissing him twice on the cheek and winking as she headed down the stairs. 

“I should be going, too,” Makoto said, not quite looking at Akira as she walked over. “The others are much more demonstrative,” she said after a second too long passed. “I’m not as familiar as they are. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Let me,” Haru said, tugging at Makoto’s wrist. When Makoto turned around, she kissed her with these loud, wet sounds, and put her hand between Makoto’s shoulder blades. 

It didn’t last long. When they parted, Makoto grabbed him by the lapels and forced him to stand and kissed him on the mouth. 

“We’ll bring the necessary supplies, so please, just focus on preparing for the Palace,” she said, her cheeks red as she, too, went down the stairs. 

“You can sit back down, if you’d like,” Haru said. Akira shook his head and bent down, and had to stifle his surprise when Haru put her hands in his hair and tugged at it in time with the movement of her lips. 

“You’re just showing off,” he said, rubbing at his smile with the back of his hand when she let him go. 

“I think it’s because I’ve spent so much time gardening.” 

“What does that mean, exactly?” 

“Well, goodbye!” she said. 

 

*** 

 

They didn’t stick to the schedule as planned. They got the two letters of introduction, but then Akechi showed up, and no one was in the mood after that. Makoto said they should come back tomorrow, and Akira nodded his head. It was nice not having to plan everything, he thought; to have someone else take the wheel; to suspend his obligations while his will was taken over by another party, if only for the afternoon. 

After lunch, they went into the Metaverse. 

“I’ll stay out on the front deck and finish up the calling card,” Futaba said. “I’ll keep an eye on you all and distract Mona if he comes by asking why we’re all here.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t want to…” Akira started, then trailed off, remembering Necronomicon’s tentacles. He adjusted his gloves. 

“I like watching plenty,” Futaba said flippantly. 

It was different going through the Palace this time, not here to steal anything, not here to beat anyone up. It was easier to slip into the glitz, to let the bass penetrate his skin and beat the waves through layers of muscles, viscera, and skin. Light caught on the edges of the other Thieves’ masks, on the wet seam of their lips. The others kept looking back to him, watching him, as well; and, to reassure them, he’d smile back. 

They reached the safe room. The others stood close to the back wall, while he was by the door. Everyone was watching him, their eyes bright behind their masks, brows furrowed—as far as he can tell, anyway—mouths set nervously against their cheeks. Variations on the same expression: nervousness, excitement, apprehension. They were looking to him, he realized. They wanted him to say something.

“I’m ready,” Akira said. “I want to be here. Let’s get started.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Makoto said. She put her hand on Yusuke’s back. “Fox volunteered to demonstrate.” 

There was a bed off to the side of the room. Yusuke was looking for a place to put his sword, not sure whether he wanted to lean it against the wall or put it on the ground. Akira stood a few feet away, tracing the inside of his glove with his finger. Behind him, he could hear Ann and Makoto talking idly with one another and a thump and Ryuji yelping. He looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Ryuji sprawled in a chair, his mask in Haru’s hands, Ann’s hand on Makoto’s ass. 

“Don’t look away, Joker,” Yusuke said. “This is your private show.”

Yusuke was sitting on the bed now with his legs over the edge, his costume unzipped almost all the way down, flopping around his shoulders and framing his shoulders and chest. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m ready now.”

Yusuke laughed. He tilted his head back and smirked at Akira. “Come here and put your hands on me,” he said. 

“Where?” 

“Anywhere.” 

Akira approached the bed and curled his hand on the slope where Yusuke’s neck and shoulder met, his palm resting against Yusuke’s collarbone. A second later, an electric pulse went up his arm and Yusuke threw his head back. His body was surrounded by a faint blue glow, the way it usually did when he summoned Goemon. His chest heaved under Akira’s hand, his muscles twitching, skin growing warm. 

“Ah, I’m afraid I’m about to…” Yusuke said, and lowered himself into the bed, leaving Akira leaning over him. Akira’s eyes slid down his body, down to Yusuke’s cock, hard and sticking out of his unzipped costume. 

“Goemon doesn’t show up himself?” Akira said. 

“Ah. No. It’s a different type of connection.” He shut his eyes and bit his upper lip, and his fingers curled into the bedspread. His hips snapped into the air and the charge Akira felt from him swelled to a point where Akira thought Yusuke had come; but his breathing leveled off and he took a hold of Akira’s free arm. The current going through Yusuke traveled through Akira’s whole body, and he felt his own breath hitch and speed up before he could control it again. “I could come from this alone.” 

“Oh yeah?” he said. 

“Mm.” His ears reddened and he shuddered, as though trying to push something down. His cock rested against his stomach, close enough that Akira could touch it if he wanted to; but Yusuke’s hand on his arm kept him still, and his other hand on Yusuke’s shoulder felt welded there, unable to move. “But if I do, I’m afraid I won’t be able to instruct you on how to bring your own Persona into this. Whichever one you’d like to bring.” 

The moan out of Yusuke’s mouth made Akira push up on the balls of his feet and roll his shoulders. “How do you do it?” he said. 

“It’s like summoning Goemon any other time. Only…” 

“Through your dick?” 

“Mm,” Yusuke said, and laughed. “You surrender. You let your Persona flow into you, not out. You let it inhabit your body, share it with you, let it feel like it’s within you, become…” He shut his eyes and the flush spread out from his chest up his neck and coloring his cheeks. He bared his teeth and his grip on Akira’s arm grew tight. Waves of pleasure rolled off him and into Akira. It was like he was thrumming from the inside; then the blue fire on Yusuke’s skin faded and it was over. 

“You made a mess,” Akira said. 

“Is it a fractal pattern?” he mumbled, peering at his own body curiously. 

They kissed. Akira moved onto the bed, to make it easier on his back, and was soon laid out, back on the plush blanket, pillow under his head, while Yusuke wiped the come off his stomach and chest with a hand towel he found in the bathroom. Further in the room, Ryuji and Haru were making idle conversation, while Ann had Makoto backed against a wall. 

“They’re not using their Personas,” he said to Yusuke. 

“There is nothing like making a connection with your Persona,” Yusuke said. “But I’ve been told it can feel masturbatory. Would you like another one of our comrades to demonstrate for you?” 

“No. Thank you, Fox. I feel ready to try it on my own.” He took a breath. He had called back Arsene from the Compendium for this, Arsene with the black wings and the glowing red eyes. Their costumes matched, but was Arsene someone he’d still trust with his body? There were Personas Caroline and Justine wouldn’t allow him to create because they were too strong for him, but then, a week or two later, they’d change their minds; but who was to say that Pixie, with her gossamer wings, might be the Persona to overpower him by the force of her charms, rather than Black Ooze—not that he wanted to have Pixie’s hair. 

Arsene. He closed his eyes. He brought Arsene to the front and tried to settle into him again, let Arsene into his arms and his guts, the tightly packed coil of organs, the mash of his liver compressed by his ribs and lungs and pancreas and small intestines. 

“Try touching yourself,” Yusuke said, and Akira did, unzipping his pants and letting his palm rest over his dick, rocking it side to side while he tried to make the thought of his internal organs sloshing around sexy. He could hear Ann’s name coming out of Makoto in sharp, gasping moans, wet noises—a tongue lapping—and the sound of latex over leather attesting to her arousal. Had they left the costumes on or off? He had to steer this back to himself, back to Arsene. 

A sudden weight on the bed and someone’s back and shoulders falling on top of his legs—he opened his eyes and managed to scramble out of the way of Makoto and Ann as they rushed to claim the rest of the bed space. 

“Excuse me,” Yusuke said, grabbing onto Akira’s arm and pulling him forward, looking highly affronted. 

Ann pulled away from between Makoto’s legs long enough to snap at Yusuke, “You’re taking too long!” before Makoto grabbed her by the hair and dragging her back to her original place. The hiss of pain from Ann, the commanding flash of Makoto’s eyes—Yusuke tugged him forward again, away from the bed. 

Ryuji and Haru were still talking together, clothes on. Haru was sitting on a long couch and got up when she saw Akira and Yusuke coming by. 

“You guys aren’t…” Akira gestured between them. 

“We were waiting on you guys. So, how was your first time?” Ryuji said with a leery wink. 

“We were rudely pushed off the bed before any progress could be made,” said Yusuke. 

“It’s not their fault,” Akira said. “I’m having some trouble clearing my mind.” 

“I might have a solution for that,” Haru said. She stood up and offered Akira the couch, and he laid down obediently, adjusting himself according to her instructions, so his feet were raised on the couch’s arm and his head on the gap between one cushion and the next. “Close your eyes.”

“Noir,” Yusuke said. “Don’t you think…” 

“Eh,” Ryuji said. “Let her do her thing. Queen said she gets a real kick out of it. Even you liked it.” 

I’m sure Noir knows what she’s doing,” Akira said, and gave them a thumbs up. 

“Think about—Arsene, was it?” Haru said sweetly, her hand settling on the butt of her ax. He smiled at her and shut his eyes. Arsene came quickly to the forefront this time, his deep chuckle and the folds of his wings, the point of his heels—a swish of air, Ryuji and Yusuke’s shout, and a heavy edge hitting his throat—the air pushed through his lips, his eyes flew open and it was Haru with her ax against his throat, eyes hidden by her hat. His hand flew up to push the ax blade away, but now she had Ryuji’s shotgun against his temple and he could barely see her through the blue fire in his vision. He tried to push himself up, but she pushed him back down with the shotgun’s twin barrels burning against his forehead, the smell of gunpowder in his nose, the click of the safety coming off. “Now come,” she ordered, and, choking on refusal and arousal, he did, the back of his head sinking into the gap between couch cushions and his erection straining against the front of his pants, come darkening his already black outfit as his vision flickered, switching between the luxurious safe room and a blackened, dimmed version of the same room, the edges of the furniture glowing and the people glowing and the sounds far away. The tips of Ryuji’s hair shone like gold, the white of Yusuke’s mask bone, and Haru was a grinning shadow, gun upon gun up her sleeve, and fuck, he came so hard, thrashing into the couch until he fell off as Arsene, the gentleman and demon, inhabited him, the inside of his mouth, the web between each finger, the protective disc between each clicking vertebra in his neck and spine. Nothing like the slick control he usually felt when he threw one mask or the other. 

He didn’t have much of a come down between this and Ryuji helping him sit up and laid him on the couch. 

“You did it, man,” Ryuji said. “You okay?” 

“I thought I was about to die,” Akira said. 

“You wouldn’t have been cut,” Haru said. “We’ve tested it several times. It has to do with our underlying knowledge that these are models rather than real weapons just as we feel threatened with death.” 

“Can I touch your hair?” Ryuji said. 

“Sure.”

His body was sensitive and the first touch was unpleasant in a way he hadn’t expected. He wanted to squirm away or flinch, but he knew going forward would lead to new roads, so he went with it, letting Ryuji try to straighten out his hair and, when he wanted to see what kissing would be like in this state, reaching over to kiss him, kissing until they were, more or less, in alignment with one another, side-by-side on the couch, Ryuji’s leg thrown over his hip and his groin rubbing against Akira’s stomach, a promise. Then they were no longer alone: Ann had joined them, first as a long, powerful stroke along Akira’s arm and back, then an interruption, Ryuji pulling away from Akira to kiss her, then rolling Akira onto his back and pulling Ann onto the couch, or trying. 

Ann, by this point, had part of her costume unzipped, diamonds and triangles of her skin emerging out of the red case, and she wrinkled her nose when she saw that he and Ryuji were still fully clothed. 

“How are you not uncomfortable?” she said. “Don’t you chafe?” 

“Don’t talk about my dick chafing,” Ryuji said, removing his ascot and jacket and unzipping his pants. Akira tossed off his jacket, kicked off his shoes, and, seeing that Ann had taken off her mask, let his go, too. “Who’s on the bed? I want to be on it already.” 

“Queen, Fox, and Noir, but I think they’re just talking.” 

That was no longer the case by the time they made their way over to the bed. Haru was pinching Yusuke’s nipples while Makoto, not much left of her costume except for her scarf and bodice, watched and occasionally critiqued. 

“Get off already,” Ryuji said. “It’s our turn now.”

“I don’t think so,” Yusuke said. “We’ve made ourselves quite comfortable here. And since Joker has already forfeited the bed once to Queen, it’s only right that she decides who can occupy it next.”

“Come on, what kind of dunk ass logic is that?” 

“Fox, let them on,” Makoto said. “I’m sure there’s enough room for all of us. And Joker is supposed to be the center of our attention today, right?” She held her hand out to him, and he accepted it, letting her help him onto the bed. 

“You guys don’t have to change anything on my account,” Akira said. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Ryuji said. “You’re our leader. We want this to be special for you and us.”

This time it was Makoto who kissed him, although she was also throwing pillows and cushions aside to make room for Ann and Ryuji on the bed. And, inevitably, with so many people on the mattress, their bodies started to touch and overlap. Other people were kissing, too: he could hear them, feel their bodies knocking into his, even taste them: Ann and Haru on Makoto’s lips, Yusuke and Ann on Ryuji’s. Some kind of consensus seemed to be reached while he was kissing Ryuji: he was taken out of the rest of his clothes, rolled onto his side, and Makoto asked him questions, a whole slew of them, that he only half-paid attention to, especially once Yusuke took his cock into his mouth. He mumbled something that didn’t seem to please her. She pushed Yusuke off his cock and took Akira by the chin and made him face her, close enough that they were nose-to-nose. 

“That means,” she said, slower this time, “that you’re agreeing to let us tie your hands behind your back while Yusuke penetrates you and you service Haru with your mouth. And while she does that, you said you wanted Ann to restrict your air intake. And you still want to send the calling card tonight—is that correct?” 

When she put it out like that, it did sound like a lot. 

“I didn’t think that it’d hurt that much,” he said. 

“It shouldn’t unless something goes wrong, and we have medicine and healing spells if it does,” Makoto said. Her eyebrows were drawn together in concern. “I’m more worried about how fast you want to go. Are you sure you want this? Things will change.” 

Things had changed when Haru had swung her ax; when Makoto and Ann had kicked him out of the bed; when Yusuke had told him to touch himself; when he had walked into the room; when they had kissed him, one by one; when they had invited him to join them; when he had texted Ryuji; when his imagination had been torn apart by what they had revealed to him in Mementos. But she was more experienced in this than he was, and perhaps there was some other aspect of this he was overlooking, that might not be the same after submitting himself to their hands, their kindness, this form of cooperation. 

“Don’t hold back,” he said. “I want this, too.” 

She kissed his cheek. “Turn over and suck Ryuji off,” she said. “He’s been waiting for a while. Yusuke, you can prep him when he’s ready.”

He was between Ryuji’s legs now, elbows resting against Ryuji’s thighs, staring at his cock, shivers taking control of him. Yusuke was waiting for him. Haru was waiting for him. Ann was waiting. Makoto had been right, then, about the change. He, too, was waiting—waiting, even when he knew there was no time. He took a hold of Ryuji’s cock and brought his mouth to it and let it in, stretching his lips and letting his tongue protrude slightly. Once he had done that, he knew that he was ready, that it was time to give himself up. 

 

*** 

 

They stayed together in the room for an hour or so after, talking idly about exams and food. Everyone fussed over him, asking him constantly whether he was all right. 

“Yeah, I feel good,” he said. But he asked them to put off sending the calling card until the next day. 

He went straight back home. Morgana was waiting for him. He refused to look at Akira at first and ignored him, trotting from one far corner of the room to the other until Akira ran up to him from behind and scooped him up and kissed his forehead. 

“What’s with you?!” Morgana cried out, squirming in his arms. 

“I’m going to the bath,” Akira said. The flexors in his hips felt strained and his ass ached, stretched out by phantom fingers and cocks. And it was a Thursday. A medicinal soak was just what he needed.

He was nearly alone in the bath tonight, and that gave him time to close his eyes and really relax. Arsene pressed against the border of his inner and outer selves, as though to ask whether Akira might want to come again. Behind Arsene was a whole horde of other Personas. Not all of them, but enough that he felt daunted. It was easy enough for him in the past to push them away, but after today he found it harder. 

He had once pitied the sad Personas crumpled on the floor of the Velvet Room as Justine and Caroline fitted them into the dark, obliterating sheets that hid their faces from their impending death. How sad they had looked, Mothman and Incubus and even White Rider, his many-eyed horse bowed low, the crown on his covered head tilting down his brows. But soon he had become impatient and stopped watching the executions, staring at the toilet or the sink; and his Personas, his selves, knowing they had been condemned, did not look at him or call his name as they were cornered by the wardens, though they could not stop themselves from whimpering when they heard the wardens talking among themselves or laugh. 

He wondered whether Akechi had been the same way with his Personas. He wondered whether his teammates would have invited Akechi; whether inviting Akechi would have been too dangerous a proposition for them to entertain. He had thought he was all right with Akechi’s death, figuring that, by carrying out his last wish, he was letting him live on somehow, but now he saw this was not true: Akechi was composed of hundreds of other desires that rolled out from him unstoppably. The wish Akira was carrying out for Akechi was a broken branch from a dead tree that he’d never see again. 

“Morgana,” he said when he came out of the bath, “you know that we love you, right?” 

“What’s gotten into you?” Morgana said, tossing his head to the side proudly. But he looked back at Akira, his whiskers and ears pointing forward. “Of course I know it. Dry your hair or you’ll catch a cold.” 

There were messages on his phone when he got home, and he answered them while making himself fresh curry. He was happier than usual when he ate it, happy to be cared for, and sad, too: for all of those Personas executed while he had his back turned, for Akechi, who would never be able to experience this himself. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it. Morgana was meowing at him insistently, demanding that he go to bed. He shut off the lights of the café. Even this constant badgering was a type of love, more or less. And he went to sleep.


End file.
